The Illusionist
by CatsbytheGreat
Summary: Ever since he was a boy, Tony Stark has been practicing magic to prepare for a challenge set down by his father. But when he meets his opponent, he isn't sure he wants to compete.


NOTE! First of all, this is based off the novel "The Night Circus" except this AU doesn't involve the circus. But the idea of a magical challenge was too good to pass up, especially between Loki and Tony. So, here it is.

This story is posted under the same title and username on AO3.

If you want more fandom stuff, my tumblr username is catsbythegreat.

Enjoy!

* * *

Loki Laufeyson pulls magic from the air as easily as a librarian pulls books from the shelf, and just as naturally. His long, pale fingers move as if he plays an instrument, but the instrument is the very fabric of the universe. He breaks apart and pulls back together. He spins illusions from the air, creating new visions and worlds. He manipulates colors and shapes and sometimes, even thoughts. Audiences who watch him are transfixed.

And he never says a word.

No one has ever seen him outside of his show, and he travels often and never stays for long in one place. Many audience members assume that he is Scandinavian, given his name, but others place his origins elsewhere, from Spain or England or even America.

Tonight, in London, one man in the audience knows that Loki's tricks are not, in fact, tricks, but they are real. He is the only one.

As Loki performs and astonishes, Tony Stark sits back in his chair and watches and thinks, "I've found him."

* * *

Anthony Edward Stark is seven years old when Odin comes to visit his father. Odin is old, with one eye covered by a silver eyepatch, and he looks nothing like the young vibrant people Howard Stark keeps in his company. But Howard Stark dresses Tony up in a dress shirt and black pants, so Odin must be important.

Odin spends some time scrutinizing Tony, frowning, and then he looks to Howard and says, "This is the boy for whom you want me to find a challenger?"

"Yes," Howard says. "He's very talented. Intelligent. I think he can win."

Odin's gaze travels to Tony again. "And would you want him to win?"

"Yes," Howard answers, no hesitation. "It is the highest honor, and he will gain much from winning. He would be able to own the world, if he wanted to."

Tony doesn't understand these words fully, but he understands that they're talking about him, and that whatever happens now will set the rest of his life in motion. He doesn't care. He simply wants to make Howard, one of the most renowned inventors in the entire world, his father, proud.

"I will find him an opponent," Odin says finally. "Prepare him."

"I will," Howard says, and he keeps his promise.

Tony grows up reading books and inventing and studying every type of machinery imaginable. He becomes an expert at technology and technicality, at melding what his father calls "enchantment" with modern science.

The only problem is that he is left to study for this challenge alone.

Howard gives him the books and pushes him in a general direction, but Tony spends a large amount of his time in solitude, practicing in his room, drawing in notebooks and memorizing facts. When he accomplishes something, he attempts to show Howard, but Howard ignores him, or is often busy, or says "Your opponent will know something better" and eventually, Tony stops showing him.

When Tony is eighteen, Howard dies.

But the challenge does not.

Howard's will states that Tony must continue to run the Stark business, which specializes in new technology and weaponry, and to continue to practice for the challenge. "Win," the will says, "and make your father proud."

Tony tires of weaponry and decides to make Stark Enterprises a business dedicated to inventing new technology for exploration of lands far and close. He invents improvements for trains and carriages, for cameras, for pens, even. Stark Enterprises is now a business of peace instead of war.

But still, Tony infuses magic into his inventions. He becomes a magical mechanic, at the ready in case he comes across his opponent, because no matter what else, Tony Stark has always wanted to make his father proud.

* * *

The day after his visit to Howard Stark, Odin finds himself at a small orphanage in the heart of London. He walks in and the Headmistress asks whether he is interested in seeing the boys or the girls, young or older. Odin tells her to find him a child that she believes to be unusual.

This is how he meets Loki Laufeyson.

The Headmistress explains that Loki was abandoned on the streets as a child. He is three years old and barely understands what any of this means, but he is a quiet and melancholy child, as if the sadness of the circumstances of his birth has permeated his very personality. He is pale and thin, with green eyes and black hair, and when he looks at Odin he looks not shy, but curious.

Odin can sense a great deal of magic on him.

He says, "My name is Odin."

"I'm Loki," Loki says, surprisingly crisp for a three year old.

Odin thinks, "You'll do," and he takes Loki home.

He does not explain the challenge to Loki. Instead, he teaches Loki magic. Every type of magic imaginable. Loki loves to read, and Loki loves to learn, and Loki one of the most intelligent people Odin has ever met. When he grows older, he will be a skilled manipulator, both with his magic and his words. For now, he is a promising student who revels in the fact that his gifts are appreciated, rather than scorned as they were in the orphanage.

Odin wonders if Loki's parents sensed the great power in their child and abandoned him for it.

Loki has an older brother named Thor, Odin and his wife Frigga's natural child. Thor too practices magic, but he is only good with electric currents and the idea of learning the complexities of manipulating the universe bores him. This is why Odin never uses him for his challenge, and instead grooms Thor to take over the family business.

Odin knows that to grow attached to someone meant to be challenged in magic is foolish, and he tries not to. He might lose Loki whether he emerges victorious or defeated, and attachment is a sentiment he can't afford. But Loki finds his way into Odin's heart all the same, and it disturbs him.

When Loki grows older, he displays a talent for showmanship. Odin allows him to perform across the country and then, across the world.

He still doesn't tell Loki about the challenge.

He dreads the day when Loki finds out.

* * *

The origins of the challenge are this: Odin and Howard Stark were both considered fantastic magicians in their youth, among those who knew about magic and were willing to believe that magicians existed. They had their instructors, and soon surpassed them.

Both were competitive to a fault, and both longed to challenge each other to a magical duel. Their instructors both insisted that such a challenge would ruin them, would make them delve into dark magics that would change them forever and that only one could emerge alive. That was how such challenges had always been. To truly show your prowess as a magician, you must kill your opponent.

As they aged, the time for challenges passed, and their instructors passed away, but Odin and Howard never forgot. They created businesses centered around integrating magic into the modern world, but competing in the economy was unsatisfactory. It wasn't a real challenge.

When Odin got married, he agree with Stark that they would become teachers of sorcery themselves, and one day their students would challenge each other. It was as close as they could get to turning back the clock and engaging in the challenge themselves, and Howard accepted.

Tony Stark and Loki Laufeyson had no choice in the matter.

* * *

Tony manages to sweet-talk his way backstage and makes his way down the hall towards one of the doors. It is unmarked. Tony knocks.

There is a pause, in which Tony thinks that maybe nothing will happen. Maybe Loki will not be there, and maybe there will be no challenge. Maybe it was all some wild lie his father spun to get him to work hard.

Then the door opens, and a tall, thin man with pale skin, black hair, and green eyes steps out.

Loki seems even more unreadable in person, if that were possible.

"Can I help you?" he asks in an accent that is definitely English, which solves at least one mystery.

"Um." And suddenly Tony finds himself bereft of words. This is the person he's been anticipating meeting his whole life, and now that he's found him, he doesn't know what he's supposed to say.

Loki raises an eyebrow. "Who are you?"

That is a solid question that Tony can latch on to, and he does. "Tony Stark. Pleased to meet you." He holds out his hand.

Loki takes it, and Tony feels a jolt much more powerful than a static electricity shock course through his arm, enough so that he yelps and steps back. Loki looks surprised as well, staring at his hand as though expecting it to be burned.

It isn't, and neither is Tony's.

"Who are you?" Loki asks, his gaze sharper this time, as if he's trying to see through Tony.

Something like ice forms in Tony's chest, making it tight. Making him feel ill. "I'm your challenger." And he expects that to be enough.

It isn't.

Loki stares at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Your challenger," Tony says, but his voice sounds weak, "like the challenge for the magicians. You know to challenge our…magic."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Loki says, and turns to go back through the door.

Tony grabs his arm and spins him around. Loki snarls but Tony interrupts him, "Look, you may not know what I'm talking about but we both felt what happened when we touched. That shock wasn't an illusion, it was real. You are my challenger. And I am yours."

"What does that mean?" Loki asks. Then, before Tony can answer, "You know of magic."

"I perform it," Tony says, and the door shatters into hundreds of pieces of wood.

Loki stares at the cracked wood suspended in the air, and then Tony moves his fingers and the shards piece themselves back together, as if they were never parted.

"I have never met a magician outside my family," Loki says. He pushes the door wider. "Please, come in."

Tony walks into the small room, which has a few seats scattered about and a mirror. There is a rack upon which hang a multitude of suits, complimented by scarves in varying shades of green.

"Take a seat," Loki says, waving him towards a chair with a steady hand. Tony sits. Loki sits opposite him and regards him warily. "Now. You're a magician, that much is true, and I can't detect your lies. But I have not heard of this challenge."

Tony is surprised, and it shows. "You were never told?"

"I was taught magic from a young age," Loki says, "and I excelled. I was encouraged in this pursuit by my adoptive father, even when others teased me for taking my education so seriously. My brother regards me as a mere trickster. I was never told that I was learning magic for anything other than the sake of learning."

Tony sighs. It makes things more difficult. "I was told that I had to win the challenge my whole life," he says. "Everything I learned, I learned for the challenge. Your father and my father apparently had a thing, sort of like being enemies but not really."

Loki watches him, searching. For lies, no doubt. "Did you know who I was?"

"Not until I saw you," Tony admits, "and that was a complete accident, by the way. I love watching magicians perform because usually they're not real. I like picking apart their illusions. It's fun, in a way. But you're the real deal. I didn't expect that. And when I saw you doing real, honest-to-God magic, I knew."

Loki's gaze seems far away now, beyond him. "What is the challenge?" he asks.

"A duel, using only magic," Tony says. "A shame, really. You're so good looking."

If Loki notices the compliment, he ignores it. "And what if I had worked with you? Become your friend?"

"Honestly, it's actually a bit of a relief," Tony admitted. "I never really met any real magicians besides the ones in my family, and Odin—"

"You met Odin," Loki asks.

"Yeah," Tony says, "when I was younger. When my father first proposed the challenge. Odin said he would find a suitable opponent. But that was, what, twenty-odd years ago? I haven't met another magician who wasn't family since."

Loki's lips have formed a tight, thin line.

"Are you okay?" Tony asks. "I mean, to be honest I didn't know what I'd do once I'd found you, and I haven't really been expecting to. Part of me thought it was some crazy delusion from my father, some weird way of making sure I did well in life. But I guess not. I can feel it in my bones—you're it. You're the challenge."

"I don't want to be the challenge," Loki says. "We don't know each other."

"Our fathers did," Tony points out.

"We are not our fathers," Loki snarls, standing and knocking the chair down in the process.

"Whoa." Tony stands as well and takes a step back. "Listen, it isn't a big deal. We don't have to fight—"

"You felt it," Loki snaps. "We have to fight. It is what we were made to do." He sounds disgusted.

"I take it you don't like this," Tony says. "But look, it's not my fault. I was just a kid!"

Loki pauses mid-pacing and regards Tony with a carefully constructed blank expression. "True," he says. "You are not the cause, and I can't blame you for coming to me. After all, what else were you meant to do?" He takes a step closer. "And you are the only magician I have met in my time who actually used their magic. Most people are too blind to see it."

"They are," Tony says, not stepping away even though Loki is so close. Closer than he should be.

"Your magic," Loki continues, reaching out a hand and placing it on Tony's neck in a gesture that shouldn't be a caress but is. "I can feel it within you. Strong. Powerful. It is a part of you, and can't be separated."

"No," Tony murmurs, "no, it can't. Your hand is cold." And it is. Loki's hands are chilled. But the grip is strong. "What are you doing?"

"They say we are enemies," Loki says, voice nearly a whisper, "and perhaps we are. But we need not be enemies in anything more than name."

"What?" Tony asks. Loki smells like ice. It is strange.

"Let me show you my magic," Loki says.

Tony blinks, and in that miniscule space of time everything changes. When he opens his eyes he is no longer standing in a small dressing room full of chairs, with a mirror opposite the door. He is standing in the middle of a garden, covered in snow. The colorful plants are encased in ice, frozen in time. It is still. Quiet. The weak winter sunlight streams through thin clouds towards the ground but warms nothing.

His breath is visible as small puffs of fog.

And Loki has vanished.

"What?" Tony asks, touching the spot on his neck where Loki's hand had been moments before.

"Do you feel the chill?" Loki asks from behind him.

Tony turns around to see Loki picking a frozen rose from a bush. "Where are we?" he asks.

"A place of my making," Loki says, "and entirely in our minds."

Tony feels simultaneously amazed and ill. He has never been able to have such a great influence on the minds of others. And everything looks incredibly real. Loki hands him the rose, which feels delicate and cold beneath his fingers. He drops it, and the ice encasing the rose shatters upon impact with the ground.

"It feels so real," Tony says. "You—this is brilliant."

Loki smirks. "I strive for nothing else." There is an undercurrent of sadness to the statement that Tony doesn't dare investigate quite yet.

"We're in the theater?" he asks instead.

"Yes," Loki says. "We can go back if you like."

"I'm not sure I want to," Tony says.

Loki places a hand on his neck. "We must." And then, he kisses him.

Loki's lips are cold and he tastes cold and Tony returns the kiss because he's never wanted to kiss someone as much as he has wanted to kiss Loki in that moment. No one else has amazed him so much, has surpassed him, and he is impressed.

The kiss lingers even when Loki pulls away.

Tony opens his eyes and finds himself standing alone in the theater dressing room, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His reflection stares back, dazed cheeks flushed and lips red.

And nothing else to indicate it was ever real.

Tony looks around the room and something catches his eye on the floor. He looks down and sees a rose lying there, in a puddle of water. Tony picks it up. The rose is blood red and damp.

He takes the rose with him when he leaves the theater.

* * *

When Loki chooses the reappear, he reappears at his childhood home, where Odin and Frigga still live and which Thor visits constantly. He doesn't knock. Instead, he uses the key he was given a long time ago to let himself in.

The hallway is dark and empty, as is the rest of the house. Loki expected as much, considering that it is after midnight. He makes his way upstairs and walks down the hallway towards his old room.

And then pauses just outside the door.

Light streams from the crack underneath the door into the hallway.

Loki pushes the door open.

Odin sits on his bed, a small candle flickering on a table in front of him. Loki closes the door behind him when he steps into the room.

"You were expecting me," he says.

Odin nods. He looks old, and sad. "I felt something shift. I knew you would come."

"And you know why I'm here," Loki says.

"Yes," Odin sighs.

"Why didn't you tell me about the challenge?" Loki asks. "Were you ever going to tell me? What if I had never met Stark?"

"I wanted to tell you," Odin says, "but I could not think of the right time. It is not something easily grasped by a child, and I wanted you to enjoy your magic, rather than working towards a specific goal. Working for your own benefit allowed you to flourish."

Loki feels cold, and he shivers. "You picked me from the orphanage to use me," he says. "You picked me because you couldn't use Thor."

"I picked you because you had the potential that Thor did not," Odin tells him. "You are imbued with magic and with an intellect that allows you to use it. Thor does not have these gifts; his talent lies elsewhere."

"How does the challenge end?" Loki asks.

For a few long, long seconds Odin remains silent. Loki wants to scream, and he nearly does, when Odin finally says, "One of you kills the other."

"You chose me because I was expendable," Loki hisses, not bothering to hide his shaking, nor to temper the anger in his voice. "You don't care if I die."

"I care very much," Odin says, "enough that I couldn't tell you about the challenge and hoped it would never come to pass."

Loki laughs, a wild broken laugh. "Oh, now you regret it? Where was that regret when you were making the life altering choice for two children who didn't have one? What right have either you or Stark's father to choose how our lives are lived and how they end? Why did you do it?"

Odin bows his head, and it seems that he is bowing under the weight of the universe. "Howard and I were foolish men, caring more about our powers than how it affected others. We wished to duel each other directly but lost the opportunity, and instead we passed the duel onto you."

Loki's face drains of all color. "Then I don't want to play," he whispers.

"You are connected to Stark," Odin says. "You felt it. I felt it. Were Howard alive, he would have felt it. There is no backing away. You two will meet again, and one of you will emerge victorious and the other will fail."

"No," Loki says. His hands are shaking. "I quit."

He means it.

He means it more than he means anything.

Pain bursts from his chest and spreads through his veins, to the rest of his body, like he is being burned and stabbed from the inside. His vision fails and he falls to the ground, writhing in agony. Sobs escape him that he cannot even begin to suppress, and dimly he is aware of Odin's hands on his shoulders, steadying him.

The pain fades and his senses return, and he doesn't know how long it has taken, but Odin kneels above him. "You cannot quit," he says, softly. "I'm sorry, Loki."

And Loki laughs and laughs and laughs.

* * *

Tony can't explain why he suddenly feels compelled to find Loki again, but now that he's met him he can't let him go. The sentimental part of him says that it's love, and every other part of him believes that this is the magic of his father and Odin at work.

Except.

Tony can't get the beautiful images of ice and snow out of his mind. He can't forget the soft kiss that turned into something less soft, something cold and passionate and longing, something he's never felt in his life with anyone else, even though he's had many relationships with many people over the years.

Loki is different.

And the challenge is part of it. But perhaps it is not the whole part.

Tony returns to the theater every day for a week, but Loki does not. Loki is nowhere to be found, and for all he knows, Loki could have moved on to another city.

And then, one day as he waits under the marquee of the theater, sheltering from a pouring rain, a figure appears next to him, seemingly out of nowhere.

Loki wears a black suit, and a white shirt, and he looks like a man from a black-and-white photograph. Even his eyes seem less colorful today.

"I was looking for you," Tony says, even though Loki knows.

"Dark magic, Stark," Loki says, "will make you lose your mind. The kind of magic that is meant to kill. We are both capable of it, but we have never used such power before."

"I wasn't looking for you for that," Tony tells him. "When you kissed me the other night—I want more of that. It's probably the worst idea considering who you are and who I am, but I want it."

"If you were to love me, and if you were to quit playing this game set in motion by our fathers, you would be in pain," Loki says, "and you would not be able to follow through. There is only one option: to play. And only one man leaves alive. And that man is the man who embraces the darkest of magic, the darkest corners of the universe. You must allow this darkness into your head, and it may drive you mad. I think, perhaps, that our fathers were more than capable of going against their instructor's wishes and dueling each other, but they were afraid. Of the commitment and the aftermath."

Tony want to laugh, but Loki's expression is entirely too serious. And it makes him feel scared, makes his chest feel tight, restricting his breath. He wants to run but there is nowhere to run. "I don't want to do this," he says.

"Nor do I," Loki says. "I have never met anyone like me before. I have never connected with someone like I have with you. You are intelligent, you are talented. You could keep up with me without trying. It is a shame, really, that we are enemies."

"Stop," Tony says, running a hand through his hair. "We're not that. We could be something else. We would understand each other. We would compliment each other. Think of what we could do."

"My mother," Loki says.

"What?"

"My mother weaves," Loki explains, "and in her weavings she can read the future. Everything that could be, every possibility, but only if she chooses to see it. In our future there is the possibility of a relationship, of love even. But it is marred by blood. Our love would be tainted by the magic that binds us to this challenge that our fathers set down for us when we were too young to understand. We would constantly try to better one another, to make grander illusions, more fascinating inventions, and it would become a test of endurance, all in the name of love. But it wouldn't be. We would use ourselves up trying to impress the other with our gifts, and the weaker of us would die, having spent his power."

"If you know that, then why can't we change it?" Tony asks. If he were anyone else, he wouldn't believe that the future could be seen by those in the present. But he is a Stark, and he knows of impossible things, and despite wanting to not believe he finds that he does.

"We can choose one of the other paths," Loki says, "but they are not kind."

"No," Tony says. "No, we can figure it out. Come on, you and me? We're both geniuses. Genius magicians. There must be a loophole."

"I never took you for a coward."

"I am not a coward!" Tony snaps. "I don't want this. Who would? I didn't choose this. I want to get to know you outside of this thing that our fathers decided would dictate our lives. I feel like I've done enough to make my father proud. Don't you?"

Loki considers him. Considers the possibilities. Tony can see all of them in his eyes, even if his expression is carefully blank.

And then a tear slides down Loki's cheek. Just one.

"No," Loki whispers. And he is pale, and he walks towards him, and Tony backs into the wall of the theater.

Tony, for the first time, feels afraid. He thinks, if Loki stabs him, he can heal himself. He has always been able to heal himself. Broken bones, choking, any injury. He could make himself disappear. As Loki closes in, trapping him with his body, Tony for a wild moment hopes that he will kiss him, that this will all be a bad dream, or a mistake, that they could break free—

"I want my father to see me for what I am beyond this challenge," Loki whispers. "But to do so, I must end the challenge."

Before Tony can think, or speak, or even draw breath, he feels a crushing sensation in his chest, as if Loki has thrust a hand into his chest and squeezed his heart from the inside. Even though he can see Loki's hands. But his eyes—

His eyes are almost purely black, the green reduced to a small ring at the edge of his pupils, and he is staring into Tony with a fierce look of concentration, and he is practically radiating power. It makes him look brighter, more vibrant somehow.

Tony has but seconds to appreciate this before his vision dims, and he realizes he can't do anything, that his own magic is blocked somehow from responding, and then he falls.

* * *

Tony Stark's body collapses to the ground, and Loki collapses with him.

Everything is still.

Even the rain has stopped.

Then, Loki shifts. Stands up.

Stark remains still, heart no longer beating, the life having fled from his body, chased out by dark magic.

Loki's vibrancy has faded, and he resembles a ghost, too pale and thin, weak and shaking. But slowly, he gathers his resolve. He turns away from the dead body on the floor, and stops shaking, and remembers the power that coursed through him in those moments and how he completely lost himself to the magic like he never has before.

He has known things, and felt things, and seen things of the universe that few have seen.

And he wants to share them.

Loki straightens himself, standing tall and still and strong. And then he walks into the street, towards his childhood home, full of new power and purpose.

He doesn't look back at Stark's body. He ruthlessly chases away the notion he might miss him. He wipes a stray tear from his cheek and continues onward.

He is Loki and he now has his own purpose. He is not tied down by the promises of others. He has great power.

And that should be enough.


End file.
